On my way to the cliff I met an old man
Tall, smart, pretty bright a real gentleman
We shared a few words, well, deep thoughts in fact
And suddenly rang a bell when he put his hand on mine
I followed his look, staring at the horizon
Where I could nearly read his past and story line
As the sun was turning the sea into a blank mirror of lights
Voices coming from the sky were telling me to dive
Or maybe the cotton clouds convincing me that I could fly
But in my old man's hands, and in my old man's arms
I could finally find my feet digging in the ground
But in my old man's eyes and in my old man's voice
I could finally understand that my whole life had just started
When the rain pretends to be made of tears
And the wind whispers that life is a lie
If you find the strength to climb up to the top of the hill
Then you have the power to start a new life relieved
